Eden
by coraluna
Summary: The only honest one of them all was the scholarship student, Fujioka Haruhi. And if her smile could turn Oshiro-Na Yoon Ah into gold, then the Host Club ought to be alright, too. {OC-centric, pairings undecided}
1. I

Ouran High School Host Club © Bisco Hatori

* * *

Eden

* * *

I.

"What have you done to your hair?"

Her grandmother's voice was quiet and monotonous in that way it only ever got when she was so befuddled, she could do nothing more but become angry. Yoon Ah knew that to make a sardonic comment now would be like signing her own death warrant.

So instead, she placed her book down on her silk coverlet, glancing up at her grandmother through long, black eyelashes, and remained silent for a few seconds. Then, she said dismissively, "I got it cut and dyed when I went to the salon today."

It was silent once more, before her grandmother interrupted it with a deep, dissatisfied sigh. "That I can see," she acknowledged, then frowned. "Yet I am sure that we agreed you could dye your hair a lighter brown than you usually get it done. That would have been acceptable, Yoon Ah."

"I decided that I didn't really wish to dye my hair brown again," Yoon Ah replied, shrugging. She folded her legs up underneath her body, and smiled coyly. "Is this not alright, Obaa-san?"

Her grandmother pinched her lips sourly. "No," she answered immediately. "Blonde is not _alright_."

"It's not too bright, though," Yoon Ah explained calmly, twirling some of her waves through her thin fingers. "Almost akin to a rose-gold color. Not garish at all. It's quite nice, in my opinion. Hal-abeoji thought so, as well."

Oshiro Noriko stilled at the casual mention of Yoon Ah's maternal grandfather, then sighed once more. "You start at Ouran Academy tomorrow, Yoon Ah. You cannot go to the Academy with that hair."

" _Cannot_?" Yoon Ah repeated. She couldn't help the triumphant smirk that twisted her lips as she slowly began to unfold her legs, and continued, "Or do you perhaps mean _should not_?"

Her grandmother shook her head from side-to-side, clearly unimpressed. She rubbed her pale, wrinkled fingers across the bridge of her nose in obvious exasperation, but nevertheless conceded the point by saying, "If you truly do not care what the others shall think of you, then do it. If you really want to, do it. I will not fight you over this tonight, Yoon Ah."

Once her grandmother had dismissed herself from the room, Yoon Ah grinned and flopped back onto her stomach joyfully. She picked up her copy of _Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire_ and marvelled at the length of her eyelashes now that she'd gotten those extensions she'd been wanting for so long.

::

The uniform was not the prettiest shade of yellow Yoon Ah had ever come across, but the design of the dress itself diminished the unfortunate effect the color had on it. It could have been worse, she admitted. The shoes were quite nice as well - a beautiful, shiny, ruby-red color with a modest heel. Not her usual type, but classy and clean-cut.

Seeing her own reflection in the hallway mirror helped Yoon Ah's opinion concerning the uniform tremendously, too. It didn't look half bad on her, if she was being perfectly blunt. The socks were a bit of a pain to keep above her knees, but she figured if she bought some new garters after school it wouldn't be as annoying to deal with for the rest of the semester.

Taking some bobby pins and pinning her fringe behind her ear, Yoon Ah found herself wondering just what Ouran Academy would entail. Would it include just as many mind games? Would every word still have to be meticulously calculated in the shortest amount of time possible? Would every person, as always, wear a mask and call it their face?

Would it be just like Pandem Academy?

Yoon Ah slipped a silky red headband over her hair and allowed a bittersweet smile to overtake her lips. She wouldn't be surprised at all if Ouran was _exactly_ like Pandem had been.

"I'm leaving, Hal-abeoji," Yoon Ah said, glancing at her grandfather through the mirror. He continued staring into the raging inferno inside their fireplace, not responding at all.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six…_ And then he turned and grinned at her, a wordless hum escaping his mouth.

Yoon Ah grinned back, and left for the limousine waiting for her outside of the mansion.

::

Suoh Yuzuru-sama's voice was loud and clear as he proclaimed to the student body gathered in the admittedly large gymnasium: "At Ouran Academy, lineage comes first; wealth, a close second."

She was a little disappointed in herself at the tightening of her chest once the words had left the Chairman's mouth; for having any miniscule amount of hope that something else would come out of it.

Why _had_ she expected it to be any different?

 _Nevermind_ _that_. Yoon Ah took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and observing the students and teachers in the room with her. It was best to ready herself for anything and everything Ouran could throw at her, whether it be her peers or her betters that were doing the throwing. Everyone was a potential threat in a place like the Academy.

Everyone.

::

 _Well_ , she mused, sipping on her cup of gyokuro, _I'm glad I prepared myself earlier._

Glancing up at Ayanokoji Seika, Yoon Ah wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin carefully. "You say my classmate runs a… club?"

"A Host Club, yes," Seika answered. "Led by both of your classmates, actually, Oshiro-no-kimi. Suoh Tamaki-sama and Ootori Kyoya-sama."

The two younger girls who'd joined her for this lunch date at the request of their generously self-appointed guide - Kurakano Momoka and Sakurazuka Kimiko - tilted their heads in askance. "Who are they?" Kimiko asked. Momoka didn't look nearly as confused as to who the boys were, but she did look curious as to what Seika's opinion of them was.

Yoon Ah, likewise, flicked her gaze from the two girls to her elder companion, staring up at the redhead through thick lashes. Seika caught her eye and smiled in a way that perhaps was meant to look dainty. To Yoon Ah, she just looked as slimy as a snake, and as dumb as a dog.

Ayanokoji Seika was a subpar actress - yet she continued to _act_ without a thought to that little issue. She didn't notice much outside of what had to do with herself and her own opinions; a terrible blend of narcissism and a superiority complex. Not new to Yoon Ah, but certainly still troublesome to deal with.

"Kyoya-sama is the third son of Ootori Yoshio, of course," Seika answered. "The Ootori run Ootori Medical and the small branch of the police force that is hired solely by their family. Old money, you see. Very wealthy, very powerful, and very intelligent. Tamaki-sama, on the other hand, is the only son of Ouran's Chairman of the Board, Suoh Yuzuru." At this point, the third year glanced around the table to gauge everyone's level of interest.

Kimiko looked to be at the edge of her seat, whilst Momoka looked only politely interested. Yoon Ah stared blankly at her companion, neither confirming or denying any possible intrigue regarding the topic. Seika either didn't pay attention to that or simply didn't care, for she smirked behind her cup of tea once more and then continued to speak.

"He's quite handsome, you know, if not ever so silly. Perhaps that lack of intelligence comes from his mother's side of the family," the older girl suggested. She raised a pale hand up to her lips to cover her giggle, as though she'd just been particularly subtle and coy and was proud of herself for it.

Yoon Ah resisted the urge to scoff. That had to have been the saddest segue she'd ever had the displeasure of being privy to. Nevertheless, she raised her eyebrows in order to feign attentiveness when Seika looked up again, and from the corner of her eye, Yoon Ah could see Momoka's mouth curl up into a peculiar smile.

Kimiko, however, fell straight into Seika's trap, much as a child of inferior intelligence would. "What do you mean, Ayanokoji-senpai?" she asked in a whisper, eyes wide.

Seika finished off her sencha with one last sip, then dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her pristine, white napkin. "Well," she murmured quietly, gazing down at the table, "his mother _was_ just a… funny little French blip on the Chairman's radar."

Kimiko gasped, flinging her hands up to cover her mouth. "A mistress?" she muttered, disbelief coating every inch of the word. Seika nodded, yet again allowing her pride in herself to shine through every inch of her skin. "So Suoh-senpai is… a child out of wedlock?"

Yoon Ah made direct eye contact with the older girl, and spoke exactly the words she knew were on Seika's mind. "A bastard, is indeed what she's trying to say, Kimiko-san." Seika flinched, but then carefully constructed her face into that of oddly amused offense.

"My, you've got quite the blunt mouth on you, Oshiro-san," Seika reprimanded. Unsubtle, as was her wont.

Yoon Ah smiled. "My apologies then. But if you'll excuse me, Kurakano-san, Sakurazuka-san, Ayanokoji-senpai, I really must take my leave." She flipped her white cuff up and took a cursory glance at her watch, noting that she had about fifteen minutes before her next class began. "Perhaps I shall meet up with you all later."

"Of course, Oshiro-san. And there's no harm done." Seika's eyes were as sharp as glass and her smile as predatory as ever, yet this time, her contemptuous attitude did not go unnoticed by anyone else in their group. Momoka observed both of her seniors silently while Kimiko shifted in her seat awkwardly, twisting her fingers together beneath the table in anxiety.

Yoon Ah simply bowed her head, hiding her smirk, and then left the cafeteria without a backwards glance.

Sometimes she wished she could just take a break from all of this.

::

Yoon Ah stepped out of the bathroom stall quietly, taking a cursory glance to her left and right. The sinks on this side of the room were bereft of any washers aside from her. Yet on the opposite side of the bathroom - which was split in two by the rows of stalls behind the seventeen year old girl - she could hear the indistinct chatter of some other girls.

Yoon Ah flipped the tap on, dipping her hands into the cold water and tilting her head in order to listen in on the conversation on the other side of the room. As she was reaching one hand out to soap up her hands with the vanilla scented wash, rather than the lavender or tangerine ones, she heard _her_ voice speak up loudly above the rest.

Seika giggled teasingly. "Her father is the head of Oshiro Architecture, you know."

"Oh," another girl cooed. "Oshiro, as in-"

"Yes, _the_ Oshiro," Seika confirmed. "Old money," she continued dismissively. "Rich, powerful, somewhat intelligent - even if the Oshiro tend to be more lax about familial relations and societal policies than most old families. But, well," Seika huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Yoon Ah turned the tap off, flicking her hands into the sink a few times before reaching out for one of the lilac towels folded neatly onto the white marble countertop. "You know who her mother is, don't you?"

Yoon Ah glanced up into the mirror, pursing her lips. Involuntarily, she could feel her fists beginning to clench and her nails digging into the soft fabric of the towel. Of course Seika would bring up her mother - girls like her _always_ did.

"I've heard rumors," a new girl piped up hesitantly. "Are you saying they're…?"

"True?" Seika interrupted impatiently. "Of course they are. Her mother is just some upstart Korean-American interior designer. Nothing special. Not even really new money, either, just some upper-middle class commoner who snagged up a stupid, rich man with her greedy little claws. Isn't that just hysterical?" The redheaded girl let out another tinkering laugh, except this time, it sounded victorious to Yoon Ah's rapidly reddening ears.

She was not embarrassed, though. She was _furious_.

"Now that I'm thinking about it… perhaps that's where her uncouth attitude and blatant dismissal of her own pride comes from. Have you _seen_ her hair?"

Yoon Ah painstakingly released her white-knuckled grip on the purple towel, straightening out the dents her nails had made in it with shaking fingertips. Then she refolded it, placed it in the wooden laundry bin where all used towels went, and gazed at herself in the mirror one last time.

The sound of Seika's laughter slipped out of her mind like the sound of the Cheonjiyeon Falls in the summer. Yoon Ah's face was deathly pale and her ears hellishly warm, but her eyes were hard and her thin lips were pulled taut with anger. If Ayanokoji Seika really wished to speak of things she had no business speaking of, then Yoon Ah had no qualms about jumping right back into the thick of things.

Not anymore.

::

She thrust the door to the Fourth Library open carelessly, making to step over the threshold into the hallway, but was inevitably distracted by the sounds of suffering coming from the direction of the lavender-tiled floor. Yoon Ah tilted her head down curiously, lifting an eyebrow at the sight of a brunette boy in shabby-looking, oversized clothing. His hand was lifted, pressing his taupe sweater sleeve against his nose, and his bag was flung to the floor beside him.

Yoon Ah appropriately dealt the blame for his pain on herself and knelt down beside the boy, placing a hand on his forearm cautiously. "I'm sorry," she offered quietly. "I'm afraid I was a bit foolish in my haste to leave the library. Here, let me get your bag for you." She grabbed the strap to his bag, looked at the boy again, and then stood up slowly.

She coughed delicately, holding her hand out to him once more. "Is your nose bleeding?" she asked. The boy finally looked up, doe-like brown eyes staring up at her through old-fashioned glasses. Yoon Ah's eyebrows raised imperceptibly.

He removed his sleeve from his nose, flickering his gaze across it quickly, then said, "No, I'm fine." His hand, when he'd finally grasped her own in order to help himself up off the ground, was squared and slightly calloused, but still small, pale, and thin-fingered. His nails scraped across the back of her hand lightly. "Thanks." He took his proffered bag from her hands and then turned-tail and all but ran back down the hallway, away from Yoon Ah.

She rubbed her hands together slowly, staring out the window across the hall in thought. A few seconds later, she mentally berated herself for losing track of time in her assessment of the other student and pushed him from her mind. It's not like he really mattered all that much anyway. What were the chances she'd ever see him again, in the long run?

She flicked her cuff up and checked her watch. It was finally time to go home.

::

"Good evening, Obaa-san," Yoon Ah greeted cheerfully, swinging her shopping bags from side-to-side as she walked into the house, toeing off her shoes. "How was your day?"

Her grandmother hummed, looking up at her through her rounded spectacles. "Fine, Yoon Ah. How was Ouran Academy?"

Yoon Ah allowed a small smile to form on her face. "Well, it went as well as could be expected," she began, ignoring the soft scoff that escaped her elder's lips. "But of course, there were some problems I'll need to address before the end of next week."

Noriko raised her eyebrows, setting her book down on the coffee table at her elbow and turning to face Yoon Ah fully. "And how do you plan to address these problems?"

"About that…" Yoon Ah trailed off, twirling her hair between her fingers. "May I borrow your office for a bit?"

"Why _my_ office?" her grandmother asked, suspicious. Her eyes were squinted in that way that suggested if Yoon Ah didn't have a good enough reason, or an interesting enough evasion, she wouldn't get her way no matter how much she begged or needled her grandmother later on.

"Your computer is much faster than the one chichi-ue has. And you keep your files better organized," she explained, waving her hand in the air indifferently. Placing her bags on the table in the hallway and fixing her hair in the mirror, she glanced at her grandmother from the corner of her eye.

She was watching her contemplatively, lips pursed. "You need to see my files on some of your classmates," she inferred easily.

"Not quite," Yoon Ah denied. "One of my seniors."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter," she responded, smirking derisively at her own reflection. "She'll be subdued by the end of next week. _If_ I can borrow your office for the night, of course," she tacked on at the end, turning around to stare, wide-eyed, at Noriko. "Please, Obaa-san?"

The elder woman huffed and picked up her book once more. "Just make sure to leave it as clean as it was before you got in. If there's a _single_ sheet of paper out of place, Yoon Ah…"

"I know," she interrupted, grinning. "Thank you, Obaa-san." She grabbed her bags off the table and left, a skip in her step.

As she passed by the dining room, she saw her grandfather and father sitting at the table, each nursing a cup of tea and skimming magazines and newspapers that caught their fancy. "Hello Papa, Hal-abeoji."

"Yoon Ah," her father responded, placing his paper down and smiling. "How was your first day of school?"

"It went as well as could be expected," she repeated from her earlier conversation. "Hal-abeoji?" She turned to her grandfather hesitantly, biting her lip. "Can I borrow your camera?"

Her grandfather stilled suddenly, loosening his grip enough on his magazine that it drooped onto the table sadly. He stared, unblinking, at the dark, shiny wood in front of him, and did not respond.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six…_ Yoon Ah counted, crossing her fingers mentally. Then, he lifted his head and grinned at her, nodding emphatically. Yoon Ah grinned back, skipping out of the room, planning now to stop in her grandfather's room before heading to her grandmother's office.

 _Yes_ , her mind hissed triumphantly.

Ayanokoji Seika would have no idea what hit her.

::

Although Yoon Ah hadn't expected much from the files she'd managed to unearth from her grandmother's office, she had still been a bit let down at the startling lack of possible blackmail she could use and abuse. But that was fine, since that's what she'd borrowed the camera for.

She'd find her own blackmail to use and abuse the redheaded girl with. It'd take a lot of time, and a lot of effort, but she'd do it by the end of next week.

Yet it was by pure, dumb luck she'd managed to stumble upon Seika taping a sewing needle to the inside of a younger student's jacket collar on her way to lunch on her fifth day of school. Although she was a little befuddled, she was also _more_ than a little smug, and so she quietly took out her grandfather's camera and snapped a few pictures of the scene.

She lowered the camera slowly and watched as Seika clenched the discarded - and now booby-trapped - jacket tightly in her fists. _Yes_. This would be perfect. Of course, she felt a little bad for whichever young first year boy had managed to anger Seika that terribly. He'd be in for a horrible week.

But Yoon Ah would be there to document it all. He'd be fine.

* * *

 _A/N_ : I got really into Ouran again within the past few weeks. I couldn't help but want to write about it, but I wanted a complete tonal shift from the basic story. So I created a character that was a little more Slytherin than the cast of Ouran usually is; one who could bring a different point of view to the world than the humor and lightheartedness that the others are commonly found doing.

Of course there's still going to be quite a lot of humor in this story - it wouldn't _really_ be Ouran without it. If you have any questions or requests for things you'd like to see happen later on in the story, feel free to ask me about them.

I should be able to update this within the next two weeks or so, as long as I'm able to keep up with my outline and not get sidetracked by... other things. I can't force it to come out, but I seem to be having a pretty easy time churning this out. Ouran is a fun world to play with! And next chapter we should get introduced to our main character and maybe a few others. Should be fun... ;-)


	2. II

Ouran High School Host Club © Bisco Hatori

* * *

Eden

* * *

II.

For the rest of the week, Yoon Ah made sure to walk by the homeroom for class 1-A before heading off to the cafeteria for lunch.

Only once did she catch Seika rummaging around through, presumably, the same first year's items. She'd ended up with quite a few pictures of the redheaded girl slipping a razor into the young boy's textbook and then drenching it with one of her newly-purchased bottles of water, but that was it.

Yoon Ah, in turn, had felt she still needed more blackmail on the third year - at least enough to leave the redhead cringing at the sight of her, she'd reasoned to herself - and so the blonde extended her mission for yet another week. In that time, she'd not only managed to catch Seika in even more compromising positions, but she also found out who, exactly, Seika was targeting: Fujioka Haruhi, the scholarship student who was now the newest addition to Suoh Tamaki's wretchedly famous Host Club.

Although Seika had indeed insinuated on the first day of school just how deplorable she personally considered the blond second year and his little club, it seemed that she was his most frequent and beloved customer. The rumor mill suggested that now that the scholarship student had joined the club, the president was spending more time with him than with his patrons - educating him on the finer things in life. Or perhaps flirting with him, some girls implied.

" _Tamaki-kun? Gay? How preposterous!"_

" _You don't see the way he acts around Haruhi-kun…"_

Yoon Ah figured that Seika's superiority complex had then kicked in, leaving her thirsting for vengeance upon the poor boy like the soul-sucking demon she was.

It was on the third Wednesday of the school year that Seika tossed the entirety of Fujioka Haruhi's schoolbag into the East Campus fountain, and Yoon Ah decided she'd, at last, finished her mission.

Yoon Ah stepped out from behind the pillar she'd hidden herself behind before Seika could spot her with her camera, glancing left and right to make sure the older girl was long gone. After determining that she was alone, the blonde smirked in smug satisfaction, flipping through the many pictures she'd taken over the past two weeks.

"What to do with these now?" she wondered.

And suddenly, she had just the _greatest_ of ideas.

::

Yoon Ah flipped a wayward strand of hair over her shoulder, glancing out of the window distractedly. The sight of soggy books and ruined homework floating serenely in the fountain outside stopped her in her tracks. She closed her eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh.

 _Of course the scholarship student spent the past three hours not knowing where his bag went_ , she thought to herself, mildly annoyed. _Because it's_ so _hard to find_.

Yoon Ah turned around and headed towards the nearest staircase, dismissing her idea of spending an hour or two in one of the libraries to study for her Modern Japanese class before going home for the day. She figured she may as well try and save the scholarship student's personal effects, since she probably should have done it earlier - _before_ they were completely destroyed.

But she thought he would have found them sometime during their lunch period. Obviously, he hadn't. And now she felt a little guilty.

When she stepped into the courtyard, she was greeted by blissful silence. No one else was around. Shaking her head to herself, Yoon Ah pulled her hair to the back of her neck and braided it sloppily, leaving it hanging since she didn't have a hair tie. She toed off her shoes and bent down to pull her socks down her knees and off of her feet, folding them neatly and leaving them with her shoes at the edge of the fountain. She unbuckled her cufflinks and folded the white linen up above her wrists, but she didn't bother to take her watch off - it was old, anyway, and she had been meaning to replace it for months now.

Then, without preamble, Yoon Ah stepped over the low, white-brick wall and into the water.

She'd only managed to gather around a third of the papers that had been slowly falling apart the longer they soaked in the fountain when the sound of feet running towards her reached her ears. Yoon Ah placed the papers at the edge of the fountain before lifting her head up, receiving an eyeful of a flustered brunette panting at the entrance to the courtyard.

A rather familiar flustered brunette, now that Yoon Ah thought about it.

"Are these yours?" she called out.

"Oh, God," the brown haired student lamented, bent over with his hands on his knees, "yes, yes they are, but- you really don't need to get them for me, you'll ruin your dress and- I can get my things myself, please don't-"

"Don't worry about me," Yoon Ah interrupted. This was Fujioka Haruhi, she realized. The student she ran into on her way out of the Fourth Library on her first day of school. "Rather, I'd worry about your books and… whatever work had been in your bag," Yoon Ah added, turning around to wade over to one of the many crinkled textbooks in the water. She held it up in the air, showing it to her companion, and explained, "I believe they're unsalvageable."

Nevertheless, she walked back over to the low wall and placed the book down on it carefully, patting the cover. Yoon Ah glanced up at Haruhi, taking in the younger student's face now that his hair was combed neatly and his glasses were gone. The blonde blinked, then allowed her lips to twist up into a small grin.

She gestured behind her vaguely, wordlessly requesting for the boy to join her in her quest to retrieve all of his items. "The water's nice," she told him. "Simply take off your shoes and socks and roll up your pants and sleeves. We can collect the rest of your things together."

Haruhi swallowed tightly, but did as Yoon Ah said anyway. Immediately, he reached for his messenger bag and tossed it next to his books. "Have you seen a wallet anywhere?"

Yoon Ah hummed, gathering some more papers and books in her arms. "No, I cannot say I have," she replied. "But I'll keep my eyes peeled, now that you've mentioned it."

The younger boy grumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, "My food money is in that wallet… makes me wanna cry…"

Yoon Ah resisted the urge to smile once more, instead pushing her sleeves up above her elbows and rolling them once to keep them in place. After that was all said and done, she bent over, shoving her hands underwater and pushing them around the bottom of the fountain. It was surprisingly hard to see into the water, since it reflected the sky so perfectly, like a mirror; the only way she'd ever find a sunken wallet in here was if she did it the hard way.

Haruhi glanced up as he grabbed his pencil case and some stray papers, then cried out, "Your dress! It's getting wet! Agh, you really shouldn't bother- Miss!"

"Please, Fujioka-san, don't even think about it," Yoon Ah scolded half-heartedly over her shoulder. "It will dry."

"Ah," Haruhi murmured. Yoon Ah turned to look at the boy over her shoulder, spotting him scratching at his neck uncomfortably. "You know my name, but… I don't know yours…"

Yoon Ah couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her lips this time. "Oshiro Yoon Ah," she introduced herself. "Class 2-A."

"Oh." Haruhi cringed. "Sorry for having you do all this, Oshiro-senpai."

"I _chose_ to personally come gather your lost effects, Fujioka-san," Yoon Ah told him, raising her eyebrows, "So stop agonizing over it, and continue looking for your wallet with me."

The brunette flushed and said nothing more.

A few minutes into their quiet search - interrupted only by the occasional mumbled curse from the younger student - a loud voice yelled obnoxiously from the entrance to the courtyard, "Hey, peasant!"

"Ouch!" Haruhi cried out.

"What a nice hobby you have. Skipping your club activities and deciding to play in the water?" Yoon Ah stood up and turned, spotting Suoh Tamaki a few feet behind her, across from Haruhi. His exasperated expression fell almost immediately as soon as he saw all of the ruined belongings of his junior lined up on the wall of the fountain, replaced by one of confusion. "Huh? Why is your bag all wet?" _Among other things_ remained unsaid, but was clearly understood, if the pinkish hue at the tips of Haruhi's ears was anything to go by.

"Uh, yeah," the first year mumbled, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I just dropped it. But my wallet is still somewhere in here…"

"Oh, is that what happened, Fujioka-san?" Yoon Ah called out, interrupting whatever her classmate had been saying to the brunette. Both Tamaki and Haruhi whipped around to stare at her; Tamaki in surprise, and Haruhi with a forced look of calm.

"Oshiro-hime," Tamaki crooned suddenly, a grin twisting his lips charmingly. He stepped away from Haruhi and walked closer to her, grasping one of her hands in his. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"I was helping Fujioka-san search for the aforementioned wallet still somewhere in here," Yoon Ah answered smoothly. "Perhaps you should join us?" she suggested. "It'd make the search a bit easier, I suppose."

"Of course!" Tamaki shouted. "I was going to help my darling Haruhi-kun search for it anyway. His searching method is quite weak, if I do say so myself!" With that, he folded his pants up, whipped his shirt and tie off, and jumped straight into the water, bending over dramatically. "You see, Haruhi-kun? You must search like this, as if you are taking a bath! Only then will you find your precious wallet!"

Yoon Ah shook her head, turning her back on her companions in order to hide her growing grin and continue her search.

"Eh?" Haruhi yelped. "It's okay, senpai! You'll get… wet… And it's not a bath!"

"You know the saying, 'A good man dripping in water'?" Yoon Ah raised her eyebrows curiously, tilting her head to look over her shoulder. Haruhi was standing stock-still and staring at the blond boy; the older girl found it distinctly hard not to laugh at the look on the younger student's face. Tamaki flicked his gaze up from the depths of the water, first looking at Yoon Ah, and then the brunette she was looking at.

He stood up swiftly, pinching Haruhi's cheeks. "Hm? What is it? You're making a cute face again," he cooed. "Did you fall in love with me?" He easily ignored Haruhi's indignant squawks and declared, "Anyway, let's keep on searching! If I remember correctly, finder's fee is thirty percent…"

Yoon Ah scoffed underneath her breath, but couldn't hold back her giggles once Haruhi grumbled, "You're so rich and still say those kinds of things?" Tamaki stole a glance at her, smiling, and joined in on her laughter. Haruhi, exasperated beyond belief but still somewhat amused, reluctantly joined in a moment later.

And so the search continued.

"Whoa, I stepped on something slippery," the brown-haired boy warbled, stumbling over whatever was in the water.

"Gya, don't come near me!" Tamaki squealed, backing away from Haruhi wildly.

Since her companions were still woefully distracted by one another when Yoon Ah finally found Haruhi's wallet, she couldn't resist the urge to flip it open and sneak a glance at the Student I.D. hidden within. "Ah! Here it is, Fujioka-san," she called out, flipping the wallet shut and then holding it in the air proudly. "Your wallet."

"Cheers!" Tamaki and Haruhi threw their hands into the air in relief. Yoon Ah clapped with the wallet in her hand and meandered to the edge of the fountain.

"Thank you so much for your help, Oshiro-senpai," Haruhi said once the brunette had joined her outside of the fountain, drying off. They both studiously ignored Tamaki's pouting and whining of _Well what about me, Haruhi-kun?_

"It was no problem," Yoon Ah dismissed, waving her hand in the air. She tugged at her braid until her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. "And please, call me Yoon Ah."

Haruhi smiled kindly at her. "I'd like it if you called me Haruhi then, Yoon Ah-senpai."

The blonde pulled her sleeves back down and turned to her classmate, nodding her head at him. "Feel free to do the same, Suoh-san."

Tamaki grinned as he tugged his tie into place. "As you wish, Yoon Ah-hime. You can, of course, call me Tamaki, as well!"

Yoon Ah brushed at her skirt a few times before bowing her head in adieu. "Then I'll be taking my leave now. Haruhi-san, Tamaki-san."

"No!" Tamaki cried out, abandoning his shoes and rushing up to stand in front of her, blocking her way out of the courtyard. "Join us in the Third Music Room, please, Yoon Ah-hime! The least we can do, as Hosts, is give you some snacks and company as thanks for your selflessness."

Yoon Ah tilted her head, studying her classmate with a slight furrow to her brow.

Seika would be there, wouldn't she?

Yoon Ah smirked minutely and nodded. "Well, Haruhi-san, would you be averse to sharing a cup of tea with myself?" she asked, turning to look at her junior over her shoulder.

"Of- of course not!" Haruhi stuttered, blushing slightly. When Yoon Ah turned back around to face Tamaki, he straightened up suddenly. He looked torn between being offended or excited.

After a few seconds, he seemed to settle upon excited.

::

"I suppose it'd be kind of me to give you a fair warning," Yoon Ah mused as she sipped at her cup of gui fei cha.

Haruhi startled, blinking hard and nearly choking on his own sip of green tea. "Warning?" the first year whispered, coughing into his hand and placing his cup down onto the table.

"Regarding Ayanokoji Seika," she elaborated, placing her own cup down, as well. When Haruhi furrowed his brows in obvious confusion, Yoon Ah raised her own imperceptibly. "Third year, red hair. Unkind eyes and decidedly slimy smile, if I do say so myself. Not the best of actresses-"

Haruhi stared at her, wide-eyed, then waved his hands in front of himself in a signal to stop. "I've realized who you're… talking about. There's no need to continue, Yoon Ah-senpai."

"Yes, well." Yoon Ah dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "I'm giving you a warning. I'm sure you've come to the conclusion that she's the perpetrator behind all of your, let's say, less fortunate situations these past few weeks. I believe Tamaki-san said she's requested you today, as well, so I'm sure she has plans to finish her not-so-subtle attacks with one final swipe."

Haruhi looked at her with a blank face. "So she's going to explain herself."

"In a roundabout way, presumably." Yoon Ah shrugged. "She'll most likely spend her time threatening you to, perhaps, leave Tamaki-san be. Or even leave the Host Club altogether. Whatever you've done to annoy her personally, she'll attempt to use any and all ammunition she has against you to get you to disappear completely from her sights - she's rather like a dog in that manner, I suppose. While I am on her bad side, as well, she doesn't have nearly as much information to use against me as she does you."

Haruhi closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them just to blink owlishly at her. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not saying she knows all of your secrets, Haruhi-san," Yoon Ah denied immediately. "But you are a scholarship student. Seika likes to look down on the poor. Especially the kind that don't stay in their designated 'commoners' area."

The brunette looked like he couldn't tell if he should feel offended or not. Yoon Ah smiled softly. "She has spoken some unkind words about my own mother, you know. Not to my face, obviously, but she wasn't very sneaky about it, either - no matter what she may think. Anyway, I shall leave you to it." Yoon Ah finished her tea with one last sip, tugging up her sleeve to glance at her watch. "I believe I have overstayed my welcome a bit, so I wish you a goodbye and good luck, Haruhi-san."

"Oh," Haruhi murmured, standing up with Yoon Ah and dusting off his pants awkwardly. "Goodbye, Yoon Ah-senpai. I hope you have a good evening, and I hope to see you back again soon." The words sounded as though they should have been read off of a script, but the first year made them sound natural. "Also, thanks. For the warning."

Yoon Ah nodded her head once, then walked away.

She didn't get very far before Tamaki called out, "Yoon Ah-hime!" He waved her over, grinning, and the blonde squinted at him slightly, smiling involuntarily. She joined him and his other guests calmly, greeting Seika - who was now rising from her spot beside Tamaki and facing Haruhi with the strangest gleam in her eye - with a slight tilt of her head.

Perhaps she still had time to spare before she headed home.

::

The sound of clattering china against the tiled floor disrupted her peaceful conversation with Tamaki and his guests. Yoon Ah glanced up at Haruhi and Seika through her lashes.

"Kya! Help!" Seika cried out, rushing away from the upturned table and Haruhi, who was trying to keep his balance as the armchair he sat in tipped precariously to the side. "Haruhi-kun suddenly became violent!"

Yoon Ah wanted to laugh out loud, but easily kept her knee-jerk reaction under wraps. Seika truly was a terrible actress.

The other girls in the room didn't seem to think so, however. "Eh? Haruhi-kun got violent? Scary!"

"I knew he was barbarous! Somebody, hurry, this peasant-"

And then, right as Seika passed between two identical looking boys, every dream Yoon Ah had witnessed as she slept at night for the past three weeks came straight to life. It was like watching her favorite books be made into movies. _It was beautiful_ , her mind hissed triumphantly.

"Ah," one boy said carelessly. "I'm sorry."

"Our hands slipped," the other boy added.

Seika stood on the other side of them, dripping wet and shocked beyond belief. As stupid as she could be, Yoon Ah knew the hint was not missed by the redheaded girl. "What?" she screeched, whipping around to face the copper-haired teens. Her eyes were wild. She looked so unbelievably scared in that moment.

Yoon Ah could not have stopped the smirk from slipping onto her face even if she had tried.

"Did you think we didn't know about it?" Ootori Kyoya asked, holding out the photos Yoon Ah had slipped into his desk before she'd finally headed off to lunch that day. "Please don't look down on our information network," he pleaded sardonically. "Of course, we have evidence on the other issues as well."

Yoon Ah decided that she'd most definitely seen enough to fuel her dreams for the next week or so. While everyone else was distracted, she took her leave.

::

When Seika came running out the doors to the Third Music Room, Yoon Ah was leaning against a window across the hall, fiddling with her camera lense quietly.

She didn't see the older girl with her own two eyes, but she heard her footsteps stop at the sight of her. Tilting her camera upwards the slightest bit, Yoon Ah clicked the button and heard the camera shutters open and close happily.

"Why?" Seika muttered dumbly. It sounded like she'd been crying.

Yoon Ah, at last, looked up at the older girl. She grinned - Seika was _still_ crying.

" _Arriviste_ ," she replied, shrugging unrepentantly. "You take French, do you not?"

Seika flinched, then scowled deeply. She truly looked as ugly as her insides were in that moment. Yoon Ah took another picture and relished the sounds of Seika's frustrated squeals as she ran off down the hallway.

With that, the blonde decided it was time to go home.

* * *

 _A/N_ : I hadn't realized how immature Yoon Ah could be until I'd written this chapter. In my rough drafts, she seemed much more level-headed in situations like these. Clearly, that's not actually the case.

Anyway, it took me quite a while to write this chapter. I wasn't very satisfied with it up until I just edited it all and rewrote most of it last night. I still feel like it sounds odd in certain places, though, and I can't tell if it's because of Yoon Ah's classically stuffy Japanese (there is a reason why she's taking a Modern Japanese class while she's studying at a Japanese academy...) or if it's all just coming out wrong.

But, well, there we go. The introduction of Haruhi, Tamaki, and the Host Club itself. Yoon Ah didn't spend much time there, since she doesn't actually see much of a point to it, but she is quite interested in Haruhi. And maybe she even likes her quite a bit. So her interest in the Host Club has most definitely been piqued.

If there's any spacing errors, let me know - I blame the site. I caught two after uploading the document but I didn't see any more. (And they most definitely are not there in my original document...) Hopefully the next update will come in two weeks' time, just like this one.


	3. III

Ouran High School Host Club © Bisco Hatori

* * *

Eden

* * *

III.

That evening, Yoon Ah twisted her arm into her grandfather's and guided him carefully through the maze of carefully-trimmed hedges and beautifully cultivated flowers that took up a small portion of the garden on the Oshiro property. In the beginning, she was quiet - her father had told her that today had been a good day, but Yoon Ah often found that her definition of _good_ compared to her father's left much to be desired.

Today, however, it seemed luck truly was on her side. The blonde grinned to herself, tightening her hold on her grandfather's arm after hearing him chuckle in response to her latest comment regarding Ayanokoji Seika.

"I also discovered that Seika is quite the ugly crier," Yoon Ah told him simply. After a beat of silence had passed, he turned his head, squinting at her oddly. She pouted, fluttering her lashes mockingly. "What? Don't look at me like that. I certainly didn't make any effort to pacify her, I'll give you that much, Hal-abeoji, but _I_ wasn't the one to make her cry."

It only took a moment for her grandfather to shake his head in exasperation and Yoon Ah drank in the sight of his lips curling up minutely like a girl dying of thirst.

When they had finally reached the center of the maze and sat down at the edge of the fountain together, the blonde sighed happily, stretching her arms up above her head. The sleeve of her sweater fell down to her elbow at the movement, and sunshine glinted off of her newly-purchased Jaeger-LeCoultre watch.

Although it wasn't the same watch she had been wearing earlier that day at school, the casual reminder of Fujioka Haruhi's existence, like a freight train, hit her right in the face. "Did I mention that I got to meet the scholarship student, Hal-abeoji?" Yoon Ah asked him quietly. He shook his head in the negative. "He- she- _they_ ," she stammered, unsure of how to refer to the younger student, "are very interesting. Their name is Fujioka Haruhi. Everyone believes them to be a male, since they _are_ a part of the Host Club, but I caught a glimpse of their Student I.D. earlier. Biologically, they're female."

Her grandfather turned to look at her, hazel eyes curious. Yoon Ah smiled, shrugging. "I'm not quite sure why they're in the Host Club. Anyway, they aren't particularly modest or shy - quiet, yes, and perhaps a bit stubborn, but they're very intelligent, blunt, and rather funny, as well."

Yoon Ah turned and watched her grandfather grin so widely his eyes shut tight and his crow's feet became more prominent. She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head in disbelief. _It truly is a great day, isn't it?_

"I don't think they're a liar, either. They may not tell the truth when they are busy entertaining the other girls in the Host Club, but I imagine if I were to ask them about their gender, Haruhi wouldn't lie to me about it. Haruhi is… not like the others, Hal-abeoji - they're not the type of person that usually goes to academies like Ouran or Pandem. They…" Yoon Ah trailed off, unable to find the perfect word to describe the brunette she'd met that day.

Her grandfather sat there patiently, and the blonde laughed at the words that found themselves coming out of her mouth. "... are a commoner. They're a commoner. They're not the kind of person that aims only for things that are guaranteed to make them more money and expand their influence in the world. They're the kind of person that aims only for happiness. Haruhi's like Eomma. Like you."

Silence reigned over them as the sun slowly began to sink in the sky. Then, suddenly, her grandfather released a heavy breath; as Yoon Ah lifted her head up to look at him, she heard him utter, " _Chin_ …"

"I- what- what did you say?" she stuttered, clumsily scrambling away from him in shock only to scoot back towards him in awe. Realizing she'd spoken in Japanese unthinkingly, Yoon Ah quickly repeated herself in Korean. "What did you say, Hal-abeoji?"

"... _Chin-gu_ ," he said, eyes boring into her own with a seriousness she hadn't seen in a long time.

Yoon Ah felt her jaw drop wide open, and her stomach felt heavy, as though someone had dropped an anchor into it. "Haruhi?" she clarified nervously. Her grandfather nodded, turning his gaze away from her and onto the sunset in the distance. The heavy feeling in her stomach intensified, and Yoon Ah found herself cringing and glancing at her watch. "Do you think Obaa-san would mind horribly if I went out shopping again before dinner?"

Her grandfather swiveled his gaze back onto her, cringing at her question. She grimaced. "Yes, I know. But I've got to do something now- I guess- well, let's get you back inside, Hal-abeoji. I'll be back sooner than you think. Maybe before Obaa-san even notices I'm gone…"

::

"Hello, Haruhi-san," Yoon Ah greeted the next day.

Haruhi whipped around, wide-eyed, obviously not expecting to be approached so early in the day; it was only half an hour past seven in the morning, and classes had yet to start. Not even the teachers were there in the room - only a few students, aside from Haruhi and herself, were loitering about.

"Yoon Ah-senpai," Haruhi murmured, blinking hard. "Oh! Hello," he tacked on nervously, shoving a hand through his hair. The movement was quickly aborted, however, when his eyes fell upon the stack of books in the older girl's arms.

Yoon Ah adjusted her grip on them anxiously. They were first year books, recently purchased, in mint condition - obviously not hers. Her own books were located in her messenger bag, weighing down upon her shoulder heavily, and the blonde girl spared a moment to briefly regret the fact that she hadn't stopped by her own classroom to drop them off before seeking out the younger student she stood before now.

"What are those?" Haruhi asked, bewildered.

"Books," Yoon Ah deadpanned. Haruhi flicked his brown eyes up to hers in a clear sign of exasperation, and the second year twisted her lips into a sheepish, lopsided grin. She jerked her head sharply, knocking some of her rosy hair over her shoulder, and shrugged dismissively. "For you."

Haruhi furrowed his brows, frowning. "Why?"

Yoon Ah's own brows puckered the slightest bit, and she tilted her head slightly. "Because your old ones were ruined by the darling Ayanokoji Seika. Why else?" she wondered, the slightest tinge of sarcasm to her tone. Of course, she didn't quite mention the fact that she mostly bought the books out of guilt - guilt for the fact that she'd had the opportunity to salvage Haruhi's books _before_ they'd been ruined, and hadn't. Then, she hadn't even thought to replace them once she'd gotten home…

But, well. She wouldn't incriminate herself out loud.

"You didn't need to buy me new books," Haruhi objected, swallowing tightly. "I don't need charity," he bluntly stated. He seemed the slightest bit apprehensive as he said it, the blonde noted, but he certainly didn't seem nearly as skittish as Yoon Ah felt in that moment. She envied him for that.

She also appreciated his honesty. She _knew_ he was different.

"It's not charity if I'm simply giving aid to a… friend," Yoon Ah reasoned, holding out the books to the first year student. When he didn't reciprocate the gesture in order to grab them, the blonde bit the inside of her lip, thinking over her next words carefully - this hadn't been a part of her plan, and now she had to rework her mental script on the spot. "It'd be charity if I bought them with the intention of making you feel bad for yourself. Now I don't pity you, and you most definitely do not pity yourself - and, well, I harbor no ill-will towards you, Haruhi-san, so it's not charity."

The brunette still didn't reach out to take the books. He stared at her in obvious confusion, and Yoon Ah mentally cringed.

Her definition of the word _charity_ may have been a bit skewed, she'd admit. _The meaning was still there!_ her mind insisted stubbornly.

Yoon Ah took a deep, steadying breath, pushing the books a bit closer to her companion. "Please take the books if you need them, Haruhi-san," she pleaded quietly. "I didn't mean to offend you by perhaps suggesting that you were unable to replace them yourself. If you've already repurchased yourself a new set of textbooks, then that's fine. I just… wanted to make sure you had them."

Haruhi gazed at the books nearly knocking into his chest, then at Yoon Ah's face, and was silent for a few tense moments. Finally, he took the books out of her hands, and Yoon Ah nearly sagged in relief. "I'm not offended," Haruhi denied. "I almost was, but I guess if… well, it doesn't matter. Thank you, Yoon Ah-senpai."

Yoon Ah smiled at the brunette hesitantly _._ "It was my pleasure… Haruhi-chan."

Haruhi paused on the way to his desk and stared at the blonde, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. Yoon Ah's small smile fell into a smug smirk and she shrugged guilelessly. "Do you mind if I call you that? Or do you prefer Haruhi- _kun_?"

Haruhi huffed out a disbelieving laugh and turned back around, continuing his journey across the room. "I don't really care, I guess. See you later, Yoon Ah-senpai."

"For lunch?" Yoon Ah called out.

"If you want, yeah."

"Then I'll meet you here."

::

"Yoon Ah-hime!" a voice chimed as she entered her homeroom.

"Tamaki-san," Yoon Ah muttered, squinting up at the blond who'd unexpectedly sidled up to her as she walked over to her desk. "Good morning."

"A good morning indeed," the boy confirmed, peeking over his shoulder in order to stare out of the windows across the room. "It seems like it'll be a beautiful day, does it not?" He sat down in the desk beside her own - it most certainly was _not_ his seat, but no one seemed to be protesting to the spontaneous switch, and so Yoon Ah couldn't quite bring herself to care about it.

"From what I've seen, it's meant to drizzle a bit later in the day," she corrected absentmindedly, taking out her books for their History and Math classes.

"Oh, is it?" Tamaki pouted, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Hopefully it does not last all day. It simply wouldn't do for such bad weather to inject itself upon our hosting hours. Speaking of!" he exclaimed suddenly, leaning over in order to stare directly into her face, "You are coming to the Host Club today, aren't you? You must!"

"And why is that?" the blonde teased mildly, shaking her head to herself.

"Because today," Tamaki dramatically whispered, holding a hand up to block the sight of his mouth from potential lip-readers, "we are bringing all of our guests to a fantastical, tropical paradise!"

"What he means," a cool voice interrupted, "is that we are planning to set up the Third Music Room as a _pseudo_ -tropical paradise."

Yoon Ah leaned on her desk the slightest bit, glancing around Tamaki's tall form in order to stare into the calculating grey eyes of his ever-constant companion and his club's vice-president. "Good morning, Ootori-san."

"Oshiro-san," he intoned politely, dipping his head to her. He turned to Tamaki with a raised eyebrow, sitting down in the desk beside his friend. "Why, Tamaki, are you going around sharing our club plans with others?"

"Not _others_ ," Tamaki countered immediately. "Just Yoon Ah-hime. I'm trying to lure her in, you see," he whispered loudly, winking at Yoon Ah over his shoulder. All she could do was roll her eyes in response, biting her lip to keep herself from grinning. Although the blue-eyed boy was clearly joking with her, he wasn't being dishonest - that much was clear.

 _Even Suoh Tamaki is interesting_ , she mused silently. Was it something that all the Hosts naturally had in spades? That innate humor, intelligence, kindness - and honesty?

 _If so,_ another part of her murmured, _perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to spend time with them all._

"I wonder if it's working?" Tamaki interrupted her train of thought by leaning back over towards her, grinning from ear to ear. "You look quite charmed, if I do say so myself, Yoon Ah-hime. That face suits you," he told her. _What face?_ she pondered, slightly unsure of herself. _Am I making a face?_

"Do I?" she needlessly asked. "I do not think I'm making any particular face, Tamaki-san," she told him calmly. "Are you sure you're not just seeing things?"

Tamaki stared at her for a moment, then said, "Well, perhaps I exaggerated," he allowed. "It's your eyes that look different. You do have a pair of bright, beautiful hazel eyes, Yoon Ah-hime. They radiate warmth, like the sunrise in the morning," he crooned, reaching out to grasp one of her hands between his own.

"Your flatteries will get you nowhere, Tamaki-san," she taunted, sliding her hand out of his grip smoothly. "I'm afraid that today, I plan to visit the Art Club after school. I'm not sure I'll have enough time to visit the Host Club, even if I had wanted to."

Tamaki frowned, leaning back into his seat in order to sulk to himself. "We do entertain our guests until five in the evening, you know," he informed her quietly, still frowning - except now it looked more like a pout. "And we stay after school until five-thirty, or on some days, six. Are you positive you cannot at least drop by before the day ends?"

Yoon Ah huffed out a laugh. "You truly wish for me to stop by that badly?" At his vehement nodding, she sighed deeply, smiling despite herself. "And why is that?"

Surprisingly, it was Kyoya who answered her question, his voice deliberately neutral even as his words caused her to look up at him sharply. "We simply wished to thank you properly for your help yesterday, in concern to Ayanokoji-san - and the photo evidence of her _improper_ _behavior_ you'd managed to provide us with."

"Well," Yoon Ah murmured, eyes flickering from kind, bright blue orbs, to shrewd, slate grey eyes. Had this been their intention the entire time? _Of course it was._ And yet Tamaki didn't look as though he'd just gotten one up on her - and for that matter, neither did Kyoya. "I suppose I can make an appearance in the Third Music Room after club hours end. If you don't mind, that is."

Kyoya pushed his glasses up his nose, turning away to face the front of the room as the teacher entered, ready to begin their lessons for the day. "Of course not."

Tamaki beamed at her. "We shall see you then, hime."

::

For the first time since Yoon Ah began attending Ouran Academy, she actually had a partner to eat lunch with in the afternoon. After having ordered her lunch in the cafeteria, Yoon Ah made her way to Haruhi's homeroom and found the younger student digging into a box of assorted foods.

Her curiosity was piqued almost immediately. "What is that?" the blonde asked, placing her tray on the desk beside the brunette's. Haruhi blinked, glancing up at her, wide-eyed.

"This?" he asked, pointing at the box he was eating out of. "My bento?" He looked at her as though she were crazy for even asking.

"I have never seen one before," Yoon Ah explained defensively, sitting down. "Is it like a dosirak?"

Haruhi, who had at first looked as though he'd come to a sudden epiphany, now looked just as baffled as he had before. "A what?"

Instead of explaining, Yoon Ah leaned over, staring into Haruhi's bento box in clear wonder. "It doesn't look like one, I suppose. It's a lunch pack though, isn't it? How cute," she murmured to herself, then sat back in her seat, looking up at Haruhi through her lashes. He looked shocked and more than a little flustered. "Dosirak are a bit less pretty than that. I'm sure once my mother comes back home from her vacation, I will be bringing them to school with me for lunch. She does love to prepare my meals for me."

Haruhi breathed in sharply through his nose, poking his chopsticks around in his bento agitatedly. "Okay," he said, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Yoon Ah smiled to herself, picking at her own tray of food calmly. "So," she began after the silence became a bit too thick, "do you truly have no preference over what I call you?" Haruhi furrowed his brows, and the blonde continued blithely, "Haruhi- _chan_ or Haruhi- _kun_?"

"Ah," he let out under his breath. "No, I don't."

"And what of how I shall refer to you as? Do you…" Yoon Ah trailed off, licking her lips awkwardly. "Are you…" Her spluttering beginning to get on her nerves, Yoon Ah sighed in exasperation and spat out, "Do you think of yourself as a boy, Haruhi?"

Haruhi's hand paused in mid-air, his food dangling from his chopsticks precariously. His answer took a moment to reach her ears, but it wasn't hesitant in the slightest. "No."

Yoon Ah flushed, embarrassed. "I apologize if I was a bit too blunt in my questioning. It's just that-"

"No," the younger girl interrupted, shaking her head swiftly. "I get it. I think. I mean, I don't care how you see me - if you want to think of me as a boy, that's fine, Yoon Ah-senpai. I don't really care how others view me. Gender isn't too big of a deal to me."

The blonde felt her eyebrows furrow involuntarily. "But if you don't think of yourself as a boy, I won't think of you as such, either."

Haruhi peered at her from the corner of her eye, rubbing her eyebrow with her thumb. "Okay," she said simply. "Just… um, well," she stammered, sitting up straight and peering around the room suspiciously. Yoon Ah found her paranoia oddly adorable. "Can you keep this to yourself? I kind of… have a debt- to, er…"

Yoon Ah crossed her ankles over each other and slouched slightly in her seat. "The Host Club." Haruhi's face was all the reply she needed. Yoon Ah burst into peals of laughter, ignoring the glare on the younger student's face. "Of course I'll keep your secret, Haruhi- _chan_. Though if you ever get tired of hosting and wish for your debt to just _disappear_ , I will be more than willing to lend you my hand. That's what… friends do, yes?"

Haruhi sniffed in annoyance, pushing her bangs out of her face. " _Sure_ they do," she sardonically responded. "But I can handle my debts myself."

"I didn't doubt that for a second." Yoon Ah told her. And it was true - she didn't.

If Haruhi was the type of girl her grandfather wanted her to be friends with, it had to be for a good reason.

* * *

 _A/N_ : Better late than never, right? I've been struggling with certain parts of this chapter, and honestly, it's probably very obvious which parts they were - characterization, for example, being a very big portion of what I had difficulty with. For chapters that are only around three-thousand words in length, they really are quite difficult to churn out sometimes. Anyway. Yoon Ah seems to take a lot of stock in what her grandfather thinks, huh?

Next chapter, we should be meeting the Host Club. Or, well, at least seeing the rest of them for more than a few seconds.


End file.
